


Keep You at Bay

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: Nights in Sandbridge [20]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Inappropriate Behavior, M/M, Oral Sex, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 12:02:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17898071
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Long past the age where a quickie under the bleachers at high school would be appropriate—Tony and Bucky have a quickie under the bleachers…





	Keep You at Bay

“At least the seats are a little larger than middle-school?” Bucky said, twisting in the uncomfortable contraption. One of those bunched rows of folding chairs, with springs, the ancient wood scarred with dozens of years of pen marks. _Daisy loves Robbie. Class of 06!_

_Mr Osborne is a goblin._

Bucky rubbed his thumb thoughtfully over the marks. Some of them were older than his own high school career, he thought. Same marks as when he went here.

That was one of the problems with living in the same town his whole life.

“The more things change, the more they stay the same.” He checked his watch. The play was… late getting started, to absolutely no one’s surprise. The auditorium was loud, really really loud, as people talked in whispers, and then normal tones of voice, and then practically shouting at their neighbors as more and more people filed in. “Don’t remember there bein’ this many people in town, last time.”

“No, Billie told me that a couple of the other schools are offering an extra credit grade to students who come to the play and do some kind of paper on it,” Tony said. “Which I imagine is inflating the audience some.” He leaned against Bucky’s side, just a little, getting comfortable, or as comfortable as the hard chairs would allow.

Which, naturally, was when a family decided they were going to need to sit on the other side of Bucky. Tony sighed a little as they stood up to let the family past.

The rows weren’t very wide. As the others squeezed past, Tony’s hand wound up being pushed against Bucky’s thigh. And then decidedly _not_ his thigh.

And Tony, because it was Tony, realized where his hand had ended up and gave Bucky a subtle squeeze behind the program Bucky was holding.

Bucky sat down hastily -- almost rudely -- the instant the family was past him. Which didn’t help at all, because Tony was still standing, that perfectly round posterior exactly at eye level.

 _Extremely inappropriate_ , Bucky scolded himself. It had been a hell of a few weeks, though, with Livvy sick and out from school, and Billie’s high school drama. Which meant Tony and Bucky had been going to bed exhausted, or woken up randomly in the middle of the night. (Livvy was getting better about vomiting into the toilet. But _better_ was not a hundred percent.) All of which had lead to things being very Not Sexy around Dockside.

The lights flickered a few times, signalling they were finally ready backstage.

And then they went out, while several people laughed nervously.

“They blew a fuse,” Bucky muttered.

“Old building like this, that’s hardly a surprise,” Tony murmured back. “I’m sure they’ll get it fixed soon.” His hand was on Bucky’s thigh, squeezing gently.

Trish Walker -- who’d one been an extra in a McDonald’s commercial just out of high school, and was now the school’s Drama teacher -- came out on stage holding up a flashlight. She took a deep breath and projected, her voice filling up the theater and cutting through the chatter. “Just a little technical difficulty, we should have it fixed in just a few moments. Please remain in your seats for safety.”

“Blew a fuse,” Bucky repeated. “Someone’s going down in the furnace room with a flashlight t’ fix it.” Probably Billie, if they asked for volunteers. Fixing a blown fuse wasn’t exactly engineering, but she liked to show off her ability to fix stuff. Bucky squirmed a little in his seat as Tony’s fingers continued to wander. He could barely see Tony, even in the reflection of like, half the audience’s phones.

Which meant no one could see what Tony was doing, either. A breathy groan escaped from Bucky’s mouth without his consent as the side of Tony’s finger brushed over Bucky’s balls. “Stop that,” he protested, barely audible.

“Don’t know what you’re talking about,” Tony said innocently, even as he dragged the side of his hand along Bucky’s zipper. He tugged at Bucky’s jacket until it was more carefully covering the area, then went right back to it. Slowly, just an occasional tease. With his free hand, he was scrolling through his phone, the ass.

Bucky rolled up his program and swatted Tony’s hand as it wandered too near the crease of his thigh again. Which got him the Pout. Capital P. Tony’s wide, liquid eyes in the near darkness, that full bottom lip sticking out.

Bucky was spared whatever Tony might have said, though, by the lights coming back on. Tony gave Bucky one more slow look as he put his phone away and settled in to watch the play.

The play was-- well, it was a high school performance, so there was a lot of overacting, handmade costumes, and barely audible recitations. And Tony kept waiting until Bucky was mostly paying attention, and then his hand would sneak out again, squeezing Bucky’s knee, or running against his thigh.

It kept Bucky just enough on edge that he had about half a chub when the lights went back up for intermission. High school really needed to have a full length play, with intermission? There were a few concession stands in the lobby area, popcorn and soda and nachos. Activity Booster’s Clubs selling tee-shirts with the play’s logo on the front.

And an absolutely ridiculous line for the bathroom. Even for the men’s room, which was unusual. But Bucky remembered, there were two urinals and one stall on the ground floor. “Come on,” he told Tony, eyeing the line. “There’s another bathroom upstairs, near the chem lab.”

Tony glanced at the line, then nodded, gesturing for Bucky to lead the way. “You think they’ll have the rest of the school open?”

Bucky chuckled. “I musta broke into the high school half a dozen times when I was still a student. I know-- here, up these stairs, and. Yep. The gate’s on the other side of the bathroom.

The hallway was dim, lit only by the few floods near various classrooms. Their footfalls were oddly loud, as the only sound. “Voila, bathroom,” Bucky said. He picked a stall, mostly because he had to talk his dick into cooperating if he was going to be able to pee, and he didn’t really want Tony to notice. Never let them see you bleed. Not advice he usually thought he had to apply to his husband, but sometimes Tony was a _menace_. And if Tony knew Bucky was on edge, he might just double down.

The familiar generic cleaning smells and the tiny stalls had a deflating effect, at least, and Bucky was able to relieve one sort of pressure.

By the time he came out, Tony was at the sink, trying to convince the industrial-grade hand soap to generate any sort of lather. He glanced up into the mirror and gave Bucky a smirk and a knowing once-over.

“You are soooo inappropriate,” Bucky told him, feeling his neck heat. “After so many years, you’d think I’d be used to you and your kitten ways.”

“You’d think,” Tony agreed, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “It’s almost like you think I’m going to settle down and start acting proper.”

“I might not be a genius,” Bucky said, wiping his hands on the same brown paper hand towels that they’d used in schools since they were invented, “but at least I’ve figured that much out.” He walked by Tony, still looking at himself in the mirror, leaning over the sink just a little, that perfect ass -- a perfect target.

He ran a hand over Tony’s butt check, and just as Tony hummed thoughtfully and pushed backward into the caress, he smacked, sharp, but not particularly hard. “Behave.”

Tony spun around, eyes wide -- and suddenly dark. “Oh, I will,” he said, and it sounded vaguely threatening.

***

There had definitely been a second half of the play. Tony was certain of that.

Exactly what had _happened_ during that half of the play, Tony was not entirely sure. He had been somewhat preoccupied with a steadily escalating game of stealthy teasing and arousal.

He had only himself to blame, really. That first brush had been totally accidental, but it had been far too tempting an opportunity to resist. And Bucky was certainly doing his best to get Tony back for it.

Finally, though, the play was over. It took exactly three minutes after the curtain went down for Billie to find them. She was dressed head to toe in black and someone had smudged football makeup all the way around her eyes. She looked like a demented racoon. “Dad, Dad, Dad! Hey, Uncle Bucky! Didja notice all the mood lighting? I did that, well, me and Bonita, but the gel switchout, that was all me.”

Billie had declined all efforts to get her on the stage, and instead, she and Bonita Juarez and Parker Robbins had made up the stage crew, flunkies, lighting technicians, scene builders, prop designers, and costume assistants. They were probably never going to get some of the stains off the garage floor from where the three of them had worked on half the props.

“You did a fantastic job,” Tony said. “I was really impressed with the fast changeout during the fight.” He hadn’t noticed anything, but he’d heard her complaining about how hard it was. “Good job, buttercup!”

“So, uh… Ororo’s having a cast party, an’, an’, an’ you know, it’s Friday, and set break’s not until two, so, like, could I go? I can let myself in, after midnight, right? I mean, I’m sixteen now and everything.”

“Sixteen,” Bucky groaned, theatrically. Only appropriate, really. “Practically old enough for your AARP discount.”

Tony could _see_ Billie start to roll her eyes and then suppress the urge, just in case, because they hadn’t actually said yes, yet. “What state is your homework in?” he asked, though it was a bluff, because he would have given _anything_ to get Billie out of the way for a few hours while Livvie was with a sitter so he and Bucky could have the house to themselves.

“Uh, math’s done,” she said, hedging a little. “I need to finish my Spanish verb stuff, and a little bit of powermaps for History, and then I’ll be done, I can do it Sunday after the matinee.”

Tony looked at Bucky, pretending to deliberate.

“Do you need us to drop you off?”

“No, Parker’s driving,” Billie said, and then whooped, taking the question for the permission in question. “Thanks, Dad, thanks Uncle Bucky.” She dive bombed each of them with a kiss on the cheek, which reminded Tony once again how tall she was getting He wanted to put bricks on her head sometimes.

“Parker? He’s like, what, twelve?”

“He’s almost _eighteen_ , don’t be that way,” Billie said.

“Wear your seatbelt!”

“Duh!” Billie said. “Don’t wait up.”

Bucky watched her run off, then licked his lip very deliberately. “Don’t worry. We won’t.”

Tony’s dick twitched and he was glad he was still holding the program. “Ready to blow this popsicle stand?” he asked, giving his husband a heated look.

“Or blow something at least,” Bucky muttered, not even going for subtle anymore. He linked hands with Tony and started threading them through the crowd.

Where they were promptly greeted by Billie’s second grade teacher, Miss Potts. “Tony! Bucky, how nice to see you again! Billie’s all grown up, hasn’t she?”

“Pepper,” Tony said, and managed to make it sound warm and happy and not at all like he and Bucky were trying to slip out quickly to go home and fuck. “She’s grown like a weed, the last couple of years. Hope you’ve been well.”

They exchanged a few more pleasantries and then Tony tried not to make a huge sigh of relief when one of Pepper’s other former students caught sight of her. “Miss Poooooooootttttts!” the kid yelled, like it was possible that anyone had missed their frantic waving.

“We’ll just… let you go, then,” Bucky said, and deftly turned toward the exit. It was slightly more crowded in the lobby as parents milled around aimlessly waiting for their kids, and kids gathered in knots of complete obliviousness to anyone wanting to get around them, and why-- okay, that was Kitty Pryde’s father, who was currently engaged in a war for his daughter’s affections between him and his ex-wife's new boyfriend, and had apparently decided that enormous flower bouquets were appropriate for a kid who had less than six lines in a three hour play. He was taking up half the hall on his own.

They’d barely cleared _that_ obstacle, and then there was another knot of congestion as one kid’s entire family descended on him with hugs and congratulations and _Jesus_ , people, wait until you’re _outside!_

They were _just_ edging past that, the lobby doors in sight, when-- “Oh, Mr. Barnes! Mr. Barnes! I’m sorry, could I just--”

Tony swallowed a whimper. That was Katherine Blaire, who was arranging her oldest daughter’s wedding reception to be held at Dockside, and had been the utterly _worst_ domineering mother-of-the-bride that they’d encountered in at least the last five years.

“How lucky to run into you here!” she said. “I just wanted a quick word about our menu.”

Bucky did not pull a face, but Tony knew his husband well enough. “Hang on, Mrs. Blaire, lemme pull up our last email--” He poked his phone a few times. “You know me, if I don’t write stuff down, I’ll forget it.”

Tony glanced at the flow of traffic and subtly nudged them all over to one side of the lobby while Mrs. Blaire launched into a long-winded explanation about someone’s cousin’s child’s allergies and eventually got down to explaining that she needed a wheat-free (and child-friendly!) option.

“Tell you what,” Tony said, “let us talk to our head chef and see what kinds of options he can suggest, and we’ll email you back first thing Monday.”

“Trust me, Steve will really be--” less annoyed if someone lets him make the decisions, Tony could almost hear Bucky say, “--creative. I promise, you’ll love it, I’ll talk to him.”

Bucky took advantage of a passing parent carrying what looked like three musical instruments and a piece of stage equipment -- Tony didn’t even want to know _why_ \-- to duck away from Mrs. Blaire.

“Maybe the traffic’ll die down before we make it to th’ truck,” Bucky said. They’d only driven at all because Billie had to bring in all the props she’d been making. Which would at least stay at the school for the weekend of the showing.

“Honey, you’ve _seen_ how they laid out this parking lot,” Tony said, because as much as he wanted to get home _now_... yeah, that wasn’t happening.

“I’d suggest we just walk,” Bucky said, “but you’ll wanna keep your legs fresh. You’ll thank me for that, later.” Bucky swatted him again, just as they passed out of the halo of a streetlamp.

Tony’s dick jumped and he considered it. Unfortunately, the high school was a bit farther away than the primary school had been. Walking wasn’t out of the question, but it would probably not actually be faster than waiting for the traffic to clear.

He looked at the solid wall of vehicles as they made their way into the parking lot. “We could just make out in the back seat for a while until things clear up some,” he suggested. He was only half kidding.

Bucky glanced at the flow (or not) of traffic and then-- “the baseball bleachers are out of sight,” he suggested.

Tony eyed his husband closely. “I honestly can’t tell if you’re serious right now.”

“‘F we get up to nonsense in th’ truck, we’re gonna fog up the windows. Everyone’ll know-- look, no one goes out that way after the summer,” Bucky said, taking a step backward and tugging Tony’s fingers.

He _was_ serious. On the other hand, it would take at _least_ half an hour for the parking lot to clear. Maybe closer to forty-five minutes.

And making out (and other things) under the bleachers was a time-honored high school tradition that Tony had never gotten to enjoy back when he was actually in high school. And Tony was almost entirely helpless when it came to Bucky. Especially when it came to Bucky and sex.

Tony let himself be pulled a few steps, and then a few more. They ducked around the side of the building just before another, smaller wave of people came out of the front door.

“This way,” Bucky said, keeping hold of Tony’s hand. He pulled them behind the squat little concessions building. There was a narrow gap there, between the building and the chain link fence that Bucky squeezed through with only a little difficulty. “There… all nice and private.”

Tony had a moment to realize just how old he was, when the first thing he noticed was how filthy it was under there, empty and forgotten paper cups and balled up napkins and old cigarette butts and--

Then Bucky was kissing him, pushing him up against the brick wall, into the shadow. Kissing him like it had been months, deep, needy kisses, rocking his whole body against Tony’s. Practically inhaling him.

Tony let out a soft moan and fisted one hand in Bucky’s shirt collar, keeping him close, letting him plunder Tony’s mouth. Tony’s other hand slid down over Bucky’s chest and stomach, pulling his shirt free and slipping underneath to caress that soft skin, wriggling beneath the waist of Bucky’s pants greedily.

“Oh, yeah, Tony, honey--” Bucky said, pulling apart to breathe, then darting back in to suck Tony’s lower lip into his mouth. He made love to the side of Tony’s neck, wet licks and sharp nips, stretching the collar to get his mouth on Tony’s shoulder. He fumbled with the buttons on Tony’s shirt, and one of them went popping off into the darkness, _plinking_ off the metal seats. “Shit--” Bucky actually laughed, and then he was sagging against Tony, stifling giggles against Tony’s neck.

Tony laughed, too, enjoying the giddy sensation of doing something illicit, the thrill of possibly (but probably not) getting caught. “Now all the kids’re going to know what we were up to,” he teased. He tugged at Bucky’s belt until it came loose, then started working at the button of the pants. “How many boys have you lured back here with your smooth talk and pretty mouth, hmm?”

Bucky groaned, rubbing against Tony’s wandering hand, then paused… “Uh, two?”

Tony sputtered out another laugh. “So much for romance.” He worked his hand into Bucky’s underwear and cupped Bucky’s cock, rubbing the heel of his hand delicately against the head.

“Aw, don’t be sore about it,” Bucky told him. “S’why I knew it was _here_.” He ran a hand down the outside of Tony’s thigh, encouraging Tony to hook his leg up on Bucky’s hip, rolling them together. “Jesus, you’re a tease, ain’tcha?” He nuzzled at Tony’s mouth again, not letting him answer the charges.

“To be fair--” Tony tried, but then Bucky was kissing him again, deep and sweet and slow, the way only Bucky knew how to kiss him, and Tony utterly forgot what he was going to say, lost in the heat and the languorous rhythm as their bodies slid together, unhurried and inexorable as the ocean. “God, your mouth should be illegal,” he gasped when they finally parted.

Bucky scoffed. “It should be a national treasure,” he corrected. “Want me t’ put it on you?” He tugged at Tony’s zipper suggestively.

“Damn straight I do,” Tony said. He dropped his leg to make that process a little easier. “Have I ever _not_ wanted your mouth on me?”

With a quick tug, Tony found his pants around his thighs, his ass pressed against the cold brick, and then-- oh, Bucky’s mouth was soft and sweet, skilled and slick, taking Tony in with more fervor than finesse, but, oh, oh, god, so fine.

“Oh, god, honey, that’s-- oh, _yes_ , just like... Nnnnng....” Tony brushed his fingers through Bucky’s hair, scraping his fingernails lightly across Bucky’s scalp. “That’s it, that’s _perfect_ , oh, _shit_ \--” Tony only just stopped himself from throwing his head back and cracking it against the brick.

Bucky hummed encouragingly, teasing the inside of Tony’s thighs with his thumbs as he worked, sucking Tony all the way back and then sliding back, loose and slow and wet. “Shhh, shhh,” he said, pulling off for a minute. “Sound carries.” He went back to work, trying as only Bucky could, to get Tony to lose control and moan wanton and loud _anyway_.

Once he got warmed up, Bucky was quick, eager, using his fingers to encourage Tony to thrust into his mouth, and then, he looked up, those eyes soft and warm and practically glowing like embers, eyelashes clumpy with unshed tears.

“Jesus _Christ_ , you are so...” Tony’s whisper came out harsh with wanting, and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from crying out. He brushed his thumbs down Bucky’s cheeks and Bucky hummed again, twisting his tongue maddeningly. Tony arched into it helplessly, once, twice, and then shuddered as his climax rushed through him, a wave of heat and pleasure that left him clinging to Bucky’s shoulders, weak-kneed and shuddering.

Bucky caressed Tony’s thighs, his hips, soothing and sweet as he licked Tony clean. “Hmmm? Yeah? God, you’re sweet.” He licked against the curve of Tony’s hip, letting his teeth scrape against the ridge, before planting another kiss on Tony’s oversensitive shaft, laughing softly as Tony tried to shift away and really couldn’t.

“Evil,” Tony accused, though the pronouncement was somewhat spoiled by the way he was running his fingers through Bucky’s hair. “I _was_ going to be sorry for getting you all worked up in the theater, but I don’t think I am, anymore.”

“You were never going to be sorry,” Bucky told him, shifting around and making an awkward noise as he got to his feet. “Ug, knees, why?”

“Probably not,” Tony mused. He hooked his fingers through Bucky’s belt loops and turned them around to put Bucky’s back against the wall. “Want me to kiss it and make it better?”

“Wouldn’t say no,” Bucky said, stropping up against Tony. “You sound so sweet when you’re tryin’ to be good, could practically get off just listenin’ to you.”

Tony hummed and dropped to his own knees, looking up at Bucky through his lashes and tasting the smooth, sweet skin of Bucky’s stomach as he worked the pants down enough to free Bucky’s cock. “Mm, your turn to be good,” he murmured, “and my turn to be evil.” He sucked Bucky in all at once, without teasing it at all.

“Pretty sure you were born bad, mouth like that on-- ya!” Bucky inhaled, sucking air, eyes going slitted with satisfaction as Tony moved. Bucky’s hand when on top of Tony’s head, anchoring himself, and the other went up to clap his palm over his own mouth, muffling the sounds he made, helpless and needy.

God, Tony loved those sounds, loved knowing that he could make Bucky make those sounds. He hummed in satisfaction, rolling his tongue against Bucky’s cock. He teased his fingers between Bucky’s thighs, pressing lightly up behind the balls, at Bucky’s perineum.

“Ohgod, Tony-- ohchrist--” Bucky was whining and babbling, pushing back against the wall and rolling his hips against Tony’s mouth, eager. “Jesus--”

He bucked -- ha! -- once, twice, then, thighs quivering as he struggled to stay upright, spilled into Tony’s mouth, painting his tongue.

Tony swallowed, and swallowed again, savoring the bitter salt flavor, sweetened by the helpless, soft noises Bucky made as he shuddered through the waves of his climax. Tony gripped his hips, holding him down to clean him off thoroughly, until he was hissing and trying to twist away.

Tony laughed a little, and nuzzled at the skin of Bucky’s stomach, then pulled away and carefully tucked Bucky back into his clothes.

“Well, that--” Bucky said, huffing out a breath, and pulling Tony up to kiss him solidly on the mouth “-- was well worth a little effort. And bruised knees.”

Tony hummed and leaned back in for another kiss. “I could come to enjoy the theater.”

“Or, you know, you could go to the theater to come,” Bucky said, snickering like the twelve year old he was at heart.


End file.
